Tradition
by Maybe the Moon
Summary: Sirius needs a new tradition. Written for merrysmutmas 2005. Slash.


"It's tradition," said Sirius, with a sharp nod.

He wasn't wrong. It was indeed tradition and Remus knew that it was one of Sirius Black's most favourite holidays (though, to be fair, it wasn't really a proper holiday in that they were released from school, or that there was no post) because his most favourite pastime - arson - was suddenly an accepted thing that did not result in detention and heavy fines. Truly, no one appreciated Guy Fawkes Night as much as Sirius Black.

Remus, on the other hand, hated it.

"It's mad," he said. "It's silly." Sirius was aghast, of course. "It's not!" He flung himself into the common room sofa and stretched out over it, legs dangling comically over one end. "It's a celebration, Moony!"

Remus shook his head. "It's unpleasant," he said. "Do you even know what this so-called holiday is about, Sirius?"

"'Course I do." Sirius waved a hand dismissively. "Come on, don't we all learn it? _Remember, remember, the fitfth of November. Gunpowder, treason and plot..."_

"Not the rhyme. The reason behind it."

Sirius shrugged. "Some Muggle fellow tried to blow up some other Muggles."

"Well... sort of." Remus sighed, and sank into one of the squashy armchairs in front of the fire. "Guy Fawkes was part of a band of Catholics who tried to blow up Parliament while King James was in it. It was an assassination attempt that might've changed the course of British history, but it failed."

"That's good, right?" Sirius asked.

"Depends on what side you're on," said Remus. "I'm sure the Catholics don't appreciate being burnt in effigy every year. Mum's not fond of the holiday."

Sirius looked confused for a moment, and then realisation dawned. "Oh. Right, your mum's one of those sorts."

"Catholic." Remus gave him a pointed look.

"Right." Sirius got up and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I forgot that bit. My parents never had much interest in the real story. It was just an excuse to burn Muggles in effigy." He frowned. "I just like setting the bonfires. I'm not thinking about burning people."

Remus smiled. "I know, Padfoot. Bonfires are nice, if that's all that they are. Too many of our sort found their end in a pyre. I prefer just something to be warm by. And make jacket potatoes in."

Sirius laughed. "Always thinking with your stomach, Moony." He nodded. "Right. So, we'll have a bonfire but it won't be for wossname. Fawkes." He paused for a moment. "Oi, you think that's where Dumbledore got the name for his-"

"I wouldn't doubt it," said Remus. "I mean. It's a brilliant name for a bird with a tendency to catch fire."

--

The following night they snuck out of the school, leaving Peter and James behind because the latter had 'flu, and the former never did anything without him around.

"Don't need them," muttered Sirius. "Have our own bonfire night."

Remus snickered, and clutched a hamper of snacks the house-elves had put together for them. Remus was fond of the house-elves because they never asked questions, and they understood the value of a good, large meal. The hamper had been too heavy to lift before they cast a charm on it to make it as light as a feather.

Sirius nudged him. "Come on! We'll never get there if you keep dragging your arse, Lupin."

"Piss off," said Remus darkly, quickening his pace. They hurried through the Forbidden Forest until they reached a clearing that they were certain no one else knew about. For one thing, when they'd found it last year there'd been fresh unicorn tracks in the grass, and Remus knew that the unicorns would not come to any place that humans frequented.

"Okay," Sirius whispered, though there was no need for it. "Let's get to work."

Thanks to a few well-placed shrinking charms, they'd been able to smuggle out of the castle a surprising amount of wood, a bit of coal, old clothes and tonnes of parchment - enough to construct a substantial bonfire once Sirius arranged it all in the centre of the clearing, took out his wand and cast an Engorgement spell. The pile loomed over their heads, and Remus thought it might be visible for miles once alight.

"Shall I do the honours, Mr Moony?" asked Sirius, smirking at him over his shoulder. Remus grinned back, and nodded.

"Please do, Mr Padfoot," he said, leaning against a tree to watch.

Sirius nodded. _"Incendio!"_ he shouted. Sparks flew from his wand and suddenly the clearing was bathed in bright fire-light, the warmth of it spreading over them. Remus wriggled his toes in his shoes, and breathed. Fire made him nervous, but he certainly loved the smell of it.

"Now," said Sirius. "Let's eat."

--

There was, of course, too much food. Remus lay back on the Invisibility Cloak (James wouldn't miss it; he was too busy with feverish hallucinations of frogs in his hair) and moaned softly.

"Never eating again," he said.

"Liar." Sirius picked at his teeth with a twig. "You'll be hungry again in an hour."

Remus snorted. "Don't make fun. I can't help it." He rolled over and snuffled into the sleeve of his jumper. "M'a growing boy."

"Growing wolf," said Sirius, reaching over and poking him. "And you're not growing. You're still a little thing."

"I am not!" Remus sat up, scowling. "I'm taller than Peter. And James!"

Sirius grinned. "But not me." He puffed up his chest. "I'll always be taller than you."

"Not," said Remus, "if I start bringing round a box to stand on." He laughed and flung a bit of grass in Sirius's direction. "And Moony is bigger than Padfoot."

"Hmf." Sirius scowled, then slowly smirked. "Ah, but is Lil' Moony bigger than Lil' Padfoot? Eh?"

Remus frowned. "What're you on about?"

Sirius sat up and scooted a bit closer. "What I mean is, who's _bigger_, Remus? You or me?" He waggled his eyebrows and grinned crookedly. Remus stared at him, wondering briefly if the smoke might have gone to Sirius's brain, when it suddenly dawned on him _exactly_ what Sirius meant.

"What?" he croaked. Remus flailed. "Sirius- I can't believe you- Shut up!"

"Come on!" Sirius poked him, and Remus jumped as if scalded. "Haven't you ever wondered? Or _looked_? You know, in the loo, checking out what everybody else has got?"

"No!" Remus fought back a blush. "No, of course not. You don't _look_, Sirius!"

"Why not?" The look on Sirius's face was perfectly and deceptively innocent. Remus wanted to hit it.

"It's just not _done_!" he said. "I don't- I don't _care_ what everyone else has got. They've got the same thing I've got. We're all the same!"

Sirius snorted. "Not all," he said. "I mean, some are bigger'n others, you know. And some are smaller." He smiled. "Come on, Moony. I'll show you mine, if you show me yours."

Remus jumped up. "No!" He looked around, slightly panicked. "Perhaps- We should be getting back." He flicked his wand - with a shaking hand - at the leavings of their picnic and tidied it away into his schoolbag. "We've an exam tomorrow. In Potions."

"Suit yourself," Sirius said, with a shrug. He yawned and stretched, and Remus suddenly decided that the dying bonfire was incredibly interesting. He stared at it, into it, until he heard Sirius rise and shrug on the cloak. "C'mon, Moony."

The trip back to the castle was much slower, because Remus found it difficult to walk under the Invisibility Cloak without letting any part of him touch Sirius Black.

--

Back in Gryffindor Tower Remus barricaded himself in his bed, curtains spelled tightly closed. He was trying to sleep but it wasn't going right at all, because he kept hearing Sirius's voice in his head. _I'll show you mine. Some are bigger'n others. Haven't you ever_ looked, _Moony?_

Waves of panic rolled in Remus's stomach. He _had_ looked, on many an occasion. He knew it wasn't proper behaviour, and he knew it wasn't normal, but one day in third year he'd caught himself peering at James as he changed from Quidditch. A fortnight later found him sneaking a peek at Fabian Prewett in the fifth floor boys' loo.

He'd realised, in the years after, that he actually _liked_ to look. And that sometimes, he wanted to do more than just that.

It made him feel ill. There were words for people like that, terrible words he'd seen in tabloids and the Sunday papers, and even the Prophet on occasion. He'd heard the boys throw them around on the Quidditch pitch, and once Severus Snape had hissed something at him in passing that still made his skin crawl. Even his own father had been known to refer to a fellow who lived in their street as 'that shirt-lifter,' which Remus hadn't understood at the time. His mother - cheeks pink and fingers shivering over her knitting - had explained it to him, mostly in metaphor, and that was how Remus came to understand that he was, in fact, gay.

And Sirius Black, he knew, could _never_ find out.

Remus curled up on his side. He'd been hard since they'd left the clearing, since Sirius had made the suggestion, and no amount of wishing and hoping (and visions of McGonagall in granny-knickers) was making it go away. There was nothing for it but to take the matter in hand, even though it meant admitting that the idea of seeing Sirius Black's cock had turned him on.

He had spent the better part of a year ignoring the fact that these days, _everything_ about Sirius Black turned him on. To have a wank and think of Sirius's cock would be admitting defeat, that he did fancy one of his best mates, which felt like the end of the fucking _world_. He loved his friends, and he didn't want to do anything that might make them not like him anymore. Fancying one was pretty high on the list of things _not_ to do.

But his own cock ached, and he really did have an exam tomorrow in a subject he wasn't very good at, and he desperately wanted some sleep. He didn't really have much choice, so with a soft sigh he rolled onto his back, licked his palm, slid his hand into his pyjama bottoms and grasped his cock. His fingers were cold, but the sensation of flesh-on-flesh was distracting enough. He grunted softly, and began to stroke.

At first, he tried to keep his mind blank, but that didn't last long. Images of Sirius's crooked grin slid into his mind with the same easy grace that had drawn him to Sirius in the first place. He thought of all the times he awakened to Padfoot's tongue licking fresh blood from his face, and all the summer nights they spent crammed into the small bed in the guest room of James's parents' house, in Kensington. Sirius's warm breath would come in soft puffs against the back of Remus's neck, and by morning they would be so tangled up that it was hard to tell where one boy ended and the other began.

Remus began to pant. He made soft, keening sounds in the back of his throat that might have been Sirius's name had he the guts to speak it. He stroked and jerked, and flicked his thumb over the very tip, and thought about Sirius's mouth. He was close.

And then the curtains parted. He opened his eyes, and froze. He stared at Sirius, who did not stare back. Instead, Sirius's gaze was fixed on the cock in Remus's hand.

"Jesus," he murmured. "You're _enormous_."

Remus choked. "Sirius!" He let go of himself and flipped over onto his stomach. "Get the fuck out of here!"

Sirius didn't move.

"Sirius!" Remus wanted to cry. "Please!"

"What were you thinking about?" Sirius asked, in an odd, hoarse voice. "What do you think of, when you- when you do that?"

Remus gaped. "You're asking me now!" He groaned. "Sirius- Sirius, please bugger off. For the love of- just leave me _alone_!" He flung at pillow at him. It smacked Sirius in the chest and fell to the floor, and Sirius did not budge.

Instead, he climbed into the bed and shut the curtains again.

"Sirius..." Remus suddenly found himself getting angry. "I mean it. Get the fuck out of here. I don't know what you're up to, but-"

He never finished his sentence, because as quickly as he'd appeared Sirius pushed Remus over onto his back, crawled on top of him, and pushed their mouths together in an eager, graceless kiss.

At first, Remus didn't react. He didn't know how. He'd never been kissed, and he'd never gone so far as to think about Sirius using his mouth for that. It was easier to think of just sex with your best mate, but a kiss was something completely different. Clearly Remus had read too many of his mother's romance novels, but he had the fanciful notion that a kiss was more intimate than sex, and made things far more complicated.

And, he realised, when Sirius moved his lips over Remus's, kissing was really quite nice. In spite of himself and his shock, Remus parted his lips and began to kiss back. Sirius made a soft sound of surprise, his tongue flickering briefly over the corner of Remus's mouth. Remus chased it with his own, and their mouths opened, and suddenly they were really _kissing_.

It was brilliant. Remus felt himself getting even harder, which he hadn't thought possible. Sirius wasn't a great kisser by any standards but as Remus had no one to compare it to, and because it was _Sirius_, it was the best sort of kiss. He licked at Sirius's tongue and sighed, grasping the back of Sirius's head with one hand and feeling that soft, slippery hair slide between his fingers. His other hand twisted in the collar of Sirius's shirt and pulled him forward to deepen the kiss. Sirius went willingly with a quiet moan.

Eventually, Remus remembered that he needed to breathe, and he reluctantly pulled away. He stared at Sirius, whose mouth was pink and swollen, and he wondered if his own looked like that, too.

"Wh-why'd you... um." He blinked, and cleared his throat. "I mean- Sirius."

"I really fancy you," Sirius blurted. "I was trying- The bonfire was an excuse to get you alone, so maybe I could..." He ducked his head. "But you went mental when I said we should, you know..." He made an obscene gesture with one hand.

Remus shook his head. "Terrible way of chatting someone up, Sirius." He smiled a little. "You could have just _said_ something."

"Like what!?" Sirius gnawed at a fingernail. "I mean, you don't go round telling your mates you fancy them. Then they're not your mates anymore, and Moony- I couldn't bear that, if I'd said something and-"

"-and you didn't want to be friends anymore," finished Remus. "Yeah. That's why you don't tell your mates you fancy them."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "You- D'you fancy me, then?" he asked. Remus nodded, and after a second of bewildered wonder an impossibly brilliant smile spread across Sirius's face, and he found himself being thoroughly snogged once again. They kissed for what felt like hours, until their mouths were tired, red and raw. Hands roamed, and the bedclothes became hopelessly tangled round their ankles.

"I want to see you," Sirius whispered, to a patch of skin along Remus's jaw. "Again, I mean. Let me look?"

Remus grunted. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said. Sirius laughed softly, but moved aside and pulled off his shirt. Remus watched as he undressed, licking his lips and wondering how on earth he could be so lucky as to have this beautiful boy in _his_ bed. Slowly, he followed suit, pulling off his pyjamas, ducking his head in embarrassment as his cock sprang free, hard against his stomach and quite a bit bigger than Sirius's.

Which was also hard. For Remus. He stared at it in fascination, because for once he was _allowed_ to look.

"You- you can touch it," said Sirius. "If you want."

Remus wanted. He reached out and curled his fingers around Sirius's cock, surprised to find that it felt much like his own. He stroked it, the way he liked to, and was rewarded when Sirius's head fell back, and he moaned.

"Moony," Sirius breathed. "That- that's nice."

Remus smiled. "Is it?" he asked softly. He stroked again, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the slit at the tip. "I'm just- I don't know what you like. I know what _I_ like-"

"That," said Sirius. He gasped, and his entire body shuddered. "Oh, just- just like _that_. Moony."

"Touch me, too," said Remus. "Please." He took one of Sirius's hands and guided it to his own cock, cursing when Sirius's fingers brushed against it. "Fuck."

Slowly, they found a mutual rhythm. Remus scooted a bit closer, parting his legs and leaning forward until their foreheads pressed together. He could feel Sirius's breath ghost across his mouth, he could almost _taste_ him, and without thinking he licked at Sirius's lips until they were kissing again, hot and slightly desperate. With his free hand Remus reached out, wrapping his fingers round the back of Sirius's neck; the hair there was soft and damp, sticking to Sirius's skin. He nudged Sirius closer, inching forward so that on every upward stroke the tips of their cocks could touch.

_"Jesus,"_ Sirius breathed. "That- do that _again_." He accidentally nipped Remus's lip as he spoke, then did it again deliberately. Remus lurched forward, pushing a surprised Sirius back and climbing on top of him.

"Just," he said, "just _move_." He straddled Sirius, bending to kiss him and rocking his hips, their cocks sliding together between the slick and sweaty heat of their bellies. Sirius squirmed and writhed, and made wonderful little sounds that traveled straight through Remus's body to settle between his legs. He could feel orgasm sparking behind his eyes, in the small of his back, and down in his toes, making them curl. "Almost- almost- _Padfoot..._"

Sirius grabbed for Remus's head, and they kissed painfully, with clicking teeth and bitten tongues. He suddenly let out a long, low moan and the space between them became hot, and wet. Remus felt Sirius go boneless as he fucked through the mess until his body seized, and he cried out as he came.

They lay knotted together, sucking in deep, aching breaths. Sirius began to cough, and Remus - after a moment of dazed reflection - suddenly found himself laughing.

"I can't," he said, wheezing, "I can't believe we just _did_ that." He giggled into Sirius's shoulder. "We just- we- Oh, my God."

"Fucked," Sirius choked. He cast about for the glass of water Remus always kept beside his bed, and took a long drink from it. "We fucked."

Remus made a face, sitting up a little to be able to look at him. "That's really sort of crude, isn't it?" he said. He touched a bit of Sirius's hair, pushing it off and away from his flushed face. "And not technically accurate."

"Would you want it to be?" Sirius said softly. "Y'know. Someday? Perhaps?" There was something in his voice that Remus hadn't heard much of before. He couldn't quite place it, but thought it sounded remarkably like hope. "Maybe the next bonfire night," he added eagerly.

After a moment, Remus smiled.

"Perhaps," he said. "After all, we needed a new tradition."


End file.
